The OOTT murders
by Voishen
Summary: In the United States a serial killer is dumping his victim's bodies into mass graves all with the same gruesome genital mutilations. Without a definite understanding of the killers mind, it's fallen to Matt and Mello to find the most disturbed criminal Wammy House has ever encountered. Warning: By nature this story will be graphic and disturbing to most readers.
1. Polk County Sheriff Office

"John Doe #1, six foot two inches tall. Approximately 200 lbs, 164 post mortem. Blond hair blue eyes, Caucasian. Found naked, mutilated, and decomposed in a shallow mass grave with five other bodies. Mutilation is similar to the corpses found with John Doe #1." The sheriff finished reading the report for what might have been the twentieth time that year. Clearly talking about John Doe #1 wasn't any easier just because we don't know his name yet. Mello slowly bit into his chocolate bar as he eyed the crime scene photo's that were spread out on the Polk County Sheriff Department briefing table. The sheriff massaged his brow and handed the pile of coroners' reports over to one of his deputies. The police officers attempted to ignore Matt as he clicked away on his game boy. These idiots didn't seem to realize they had 90% of his attention; which counts for 80% more processing power than all of their undivided attention. The deputy continued to read off of the Xeroxed reports.

"Subject, John Doe #1 was found in an advanced state of de-comp. Remodeling is not present or undistinguishable due to deterioration. Subject's scrotum and testes have been removed. The penis have been sliced open and jammed into the body cavity through an incision made where the scrotum was removed. The wounds to not appear to have been made with any kind of precision, extraneous gashes suggest carelessness in the mutilation. Due to de-comp, cause of death is unknown." The deputy looked unsure of himself as he closed his manila folder and went to open another. The sheriff continued to stare at the linoleum tile floor. He's tired, Mello thought. Sleep deprivation due to work ethic and nightmares he concluded. "Jane Doe #1 was found at a more advanced stage of decomposition than John Doe #1."

"Could you seriously not come up with a more interesting name than Jane and John Doe?" Matt interjected. The pale ginger boy did not take his eyes off his game. This was the first time he'd spoken all afternoon. The police officers looked stunned. They really had thought he wasn't listening, Mello thought.

"I'm sorry what?" The Sheriff had heard him but clearly didn't possess the capacity to understand that Matt was not being disrespectful, malicious, or any more un- politically correct. No Matt was actually being scornful over the fact that the Salem Sheriff's department had done a fabulous job of dehumanizing the victims of a terrible homicide. That being said, Mello really didn't want to call Jane Doe #1 Zelda either.

"We just followed procedure, sorry if you don't like it." The gruff sheriff instantly disliked Matt based on his lone comment. Mello instantly disliked the sheriff for his misjudgment of character. Mello stood up.

"I've heard all I need, I'll call when I need more evidence to think over. Mello cracked the chocolate bar with his teeth as he waltzed out of the station with Matt close on his heels. Matt stowed away his game boy and got into the drivers seat. Mello munched away in the passengers seat.

As the 1966 Ford Mustang roared down the road the two geniuses stayed quite. Mello went through the information in his head before he announced his thoughts. The barrier between Mello's mouth and brain closed dramatically once the blond finished his chocolate bar.

"So I think it goes without saying it's a high order sexual sadist." Mello began. Matt inhaled through his nose.

"Yup, white too, but based on what they gave us we'd need more to determine approximate age and sex." Mello scoffed.

"You think a woman could have done that? Never in the history of serial killers has a woman committed a crime remotely similar to that. No I'd say we can pretty much assume it's male." Matt would have said something about exploring all options but the idea seemed counter productive to narrowing their search. Besides Mello had already thought of that. Mello hummed as a thought occurred to him.

"Do you remember the order of the bodies in the grave?" Matt frowned.

"They were in a heap, there was no order?" Mello leaned his shoulder against he door of the car.

"No, some of them had to be on top of one another? Which ones were buried the deepest?" Mello knew part of the answer but Matt's photo graphic memory knew it all.

"The deepest bodies were the ones in the worst state of decomposing. The police officers think that's because they were in wet soil."

"What if it's because those bodies are older than the ones buried on top of them?" Matt blinked a couple of times.

"What so you think he came back on six different occasions to dump the bodies in the same place? That seems like a lot of work?"

"So does meticulous mutilation of six people's genitals, but our guy didn't mind doing that part did he?" Mello finished his own rhetorical question. "Nope." He snapped a corner off of a new chocolate bar. Matt grumbled.

"So he kills the first victim does his freaky thing-"

"You're assuming he kills them before torturing them, sexual sadist's torture first then kill. Maybe they even died of blood loss." Matt grunted.

"Okay so he tortures and eventually kills his victim, then he has to stash the body so he drives out into the middle of farm land that's been bank owned since 2008 when it went into foreclosure. He doesn't need to be local to tell that the fields gone unused for awhile. Are we assuming that the earliest date those bodies could have been stashed was 2008?" Mello stared out the window.

"No, it was a big field, the owner probably bought more than he could farm when the crops couldn't pay the mortgage he probably didn't plant the whole field. Plus didn't the government give incentives to only plant so much of certain crops to keep prices up?"

"I don't remember, we were in Australia in 2008, I wasn't exactly paying attention to agriculture in America at the time." Mello smiled at the mental images of what Matt had been paying attention to.

"Okay but for arguments sake lets say those bodies could have been buried there undisturbed for up to six years. Which means potentially he's been coming back to the same spot for six years to bury six different bodies. Why?" Mello made a face. "It's got to be important that all six of those bodies be placed where they were."

"Okay, but is it supposed to be important for him or for us that they be like that?" Matt grinned as Mello continued to find these questions frustrating. Without evidence there was very little to do but speculate and Mello knew it.

"Shallow grave means he was interrupted, which is not likely since he's been doing this for years. Or it could be because he wants those bodies found." Matt cut into his process just to bug Mello.

"Or it could mean nothing because the original hole was deep for one body, but six corpses later the grave became 'shallow'." Mello loved at him with total adoration.

"Don't interrupt me you Bastard." He made it sound like 'I love it when you outfox me' despite himself. Matt chuckled.

"Lets get some food and wait for dental records before we solves this one shall we?"


	2. Hotel Room

Mello watched Matt's chest rise and fall as he slept. Mello smiled as he gauged the familiar rhythm. Matt was in stage-four sleep now, soon he'd start to dream. Mello would watch for signs that he was dreaming about the case. Matt's facial expressions responded to his dreams, Mello used those to make sure his friend wasn't having nightmares. If he was Mello would usually kick him "accidentally", or wake him up demanding sex or something; anything to get their foes out of Matt's head at night. Mello took L's advice whole heartedly. L insisted that, come what may, a detective should never let his foe get inside his head. Mello made sure to weed out any unwanted intruders on Matt's behalf.

The blonde sighed and nudged Matt's head snugly between his neck and shoulder. Matt's breathe worked like an alarm for Mello. The words third best detective slept more than L but not as much as Near or Matt. It wasn't something that he'd trained into himself, he just thought too many things too quickly to take a rest. Luckily for Mello he never remembered his own dreams.

Mello pulled his laptop out of a shoulder bag that was slung around a bed post. Matt slept soundly even in the presence of electronics. Mello smiled as he pictured Matt having a "Spidey-Sense" for gadgets. His lover kind of did, but only for vintage game consoles and government, high-tech, experimental software. The screen lit up as Mello opened up to a special chat line he used only for conversing with L and other team members. He typed away into the box.

Mello: L, we were briefed on the case today. I see what you mean there are a lot of unanswered questions. Care to give your input on something? It's been driving me crazy for hours.

L's response was delayed by three minutes. Which meant, and Mello was very pleased by this, that L had just broken off sex with his evil, ex-serial killer boyfriend. A man who Mello did not personally like… in any way. Except for maybe his sense of style, the man did have style.

L: 1. I am pleased to hear you are enjoying the case, 2. you should have screened my messages through Watari as I have requested, 3.I'm 90% positive you already suspect the answer to whatever question you are about to ask me, and the true purpose of this message is to irritate Light.

Mello's chest swelled as he held back the fit of laughter that raged above his diaphragm. Using some (normally ineffective) breathing techniques Light had insisted he learn he managed to stop the laughs before they woke Matt. He cleared his throat and continued to grin wickedly as he regally typed his response.

Mello: None-sense I would never interrupt Mommy and Daddy's "special time" which pretty much always exists between the hours of 1 and 3 am in whatever time zone you happen to be in.

L responded much faster now.

L: Oh now you've done it he's getting his laptop. He is really mad, not murderously mad mind you, more of a "I'm an egotistical psychopath and I won't stand for this!" sort of thing. He pouts terribly.

Mello waited for Light to log on impatiently.

Light/Kira: Whoever changed my name to "/Kira" has some answering to do….

Mello waited for the rest of his wining, he knew he and L were just love bickering over the stupid name thing momentarily.

Light/Kira: Mello, you're utter disrespect for other people's privacy is astounding. Please tell me you just made a rough estimation about your idiotic "time line" for the sake of emphasis?

Mello wiggled his eyebrows as he pulled up the office document he'd been using to graph all the times he'd interrupted them during sex and at what times. He added in that days event which brought the mean number to 2:16.17 am. He sent the document to both L and Light/Kira. Light promptly logged off.

L: Light just broke his computer. It was a very un-Light- like thing to do. I fear that my instilled stress for quantitative data has created a monster.

Mello: Don't worry other things played into it.

L: Ask you're question, Light has vacated the room.

Mello: Good objective complete. I want to know what you know about decomposing corpses. I've got reason to believe that this new killer is coming back to bury his victims in the same spot.

L: There is a body farm or two that I'm familiar with but I'd have to know more to tell you what to ask for.

Mello: If I want to prove that the lowest corpses died first how do I do that without evidence?

L: I assume the PH of the soil is basic or else we would not be having this conversation?

Mello: I'm not an idiot.

L: Just checking, Light tried using starch on my laundry yesterday. I am still suspicious of everyone's intelligence. I digress, moister conditions in the lower soil could make the lower corpses appear more decomposed and therefore older, but insect activity on the higher corpses will cause decomposition just as quickly. If all of the corpses are in ruin, to determine the difference in time of death you should consult a forensic anthropologist.

Mello paused in thought. Matt groaned and turned his face so that he could glare at the laptop that occupied his Mello's attention.

"L?" He fought to keep his eyes open. He was so tired he was practically cross eyed trying to keep his eyes from closing. Mello stroked some of his hair away from Matt's face. The blonde snatched a clip from the night stand to pull his hair out of the way. Matt perched his head on Mello's shoulder as he read over the conversation. "Starch huh? What a nut, like L has anything to do with starch outside of culinary form!" Mello petted his head condescendingly.

"Patients precious, soon Daddy will learn that our evil step Mommy is a stupid, murderous, whore and then all will be well. These little mistakes are only the beginning of the end!" He mocked. Matt nudged Mello.

"Someone's got their bitch panties on. Damn, you actually sent them that chart?" Mello smirked in triumph.

"Yes I did and no I'm not, I'm not wearing panties! When have I ever worn panties? When have I ever worn underwear, period?" Mello looked at Matt's stretched out form quizzically. Matt shrugged.

"I meant your emotional underwear silly." He joked. L signed out. Mello closed his laptop too.

"I guess Mommy won Daddy over to the dark side again. Oh well, just another brick in that wall ." Matt smirked at his various pop culture references. He kissed Mello's collar bone. The blonde pretended like he didn't notice these little sweetness's between them even though secretly he acknowledged they were one of the few things that kept him sane. Matt always noticed a slight upturn to the corners of Mello's mouth in these moments of unnecessary, unprompted mush, and they were what kept the nightmares at bay.

"Anthropologist, huh?" Matt raised a suspicious eyebrow at Mello as he scratched his head. No sense beating Mello to death with romance.

"Nah, we'll just ID the victims then figure out time of death based on how long they've been missing. I just wanted to make Light mad." The blonde stretched then shrugged his shoulders into the blankets. Matt returned his head to his favorite spot. Mello went to sleep almost instantly.


	3. Dairy Queen

Mello pushed the door open with one forceful hand. He did not stop at the front desk to politely ask the secretary to "wipe his ass for him". Mello brazenly hurdled over the gate between the reception area and the back rooms where stuff gets done. Matt followed him but instead of jumping he unlocked the gate from the other side. He calmly closed the gate behind himself. The sheriff did not look pleased to see the duo.

"I admit I'm mildly impressed you two get to work so early. We've gotten emails back from the FBI. The dental records were easy to match to the people we had matches for but two of the six didn't come up in missing persons." Mello leaned against the table.

"So who are the four we know of so far?" Matt stood by his side. The sheriff groaned as he shifted printed copies of the e-mails out from under his other papers.

"These are for you. I figured you'd rather read them without us. Any insights since yesterday? I have to make some phone calls to families later and I'd like to tell them something, anything really." Matt looked at Mello then back at the Sheriff.

"Don't you usually go see the families in person when you tell them their relative is dead?" He said. The sheriff pursed his lips under his graying mustache.

"Normally I would, but in this case I'll be making phone calls to four different police stations in three different states. Might as well be four since the only two bodies from the same state are from opposite ends of California." He gave the two a minute to register that. Mello and Matt didn't need it.

"We think that those bodies were dumped on separate occasions. With this new information, that means whoever did this took victims from hundreds of miles away to bury them all in the same spot." The sheriff didn't look particularly amazed.

"Boy, I don't know what your credentials are. I just took it on faith that you were as good as they said you were. But I have got to say; that makes so little sense it seems more likely that you're wrong." Mello promptly knocked his coffee over on the table, splattering everything he had laid out in brown liquid.

"Then you might as well just stop working on the case then, if you're too stupid to "make sense" of my theories you'd be of more use giving out parking tickets!" Mello yelled as he left in the same hurricane fashion he'd arrived in. Matt followed after him. The sheriff took a long deep weariful breathe. He continued to glare at where the boys had stood.

"Well, at least they look good in tight pants I guess." He ruffled his mustache. His deputies shook their heads in distain of tight pants.

…

Mello had relocated HQ from the sheriff's office to the outside sitting area of a dirty Dairy Queen. Nobody was around and when people approached. They walked the other way when Mello gave them the death snarl. Currently the boys had documents spread all over the wobbly table. Each set of papers was held down by Dairy Queen food they hadn't finished eating. Every now and then Matt would pick up his blizzard only to have a stack of sensitive case materials go billowing gracefully a crossed the parking lot. This too received Mello death snarls. At this point the coffee stained police HQ probably looked cleaner than their… DQ.

Matt awkwardly held down a stack of papers while he ate some chicken+ bread combination abomination. Mello pretended to vomit.

"How can you eat meat while reading this? Hell, how can you eat that not-meat meat at all?" Matt snorted and flipped him off with his unoccupied hand. That of course unleashed the loose papers. Mello smacked the papers down before Matt had even registered they were going somewhere. The residual smacking noise rang in his ears for a few seconds until a car drove by to provide some background noise. Mello slowly retracted his hand warily. He looked back to the files he had been reading.

"Samuel Ferdin from Carson City, Nevada. Age 43, over weight, even for a big fat tall guy. He was only periodically employed over the past few months before his disappearance two years ago. When he did work he worked as a bouncer and get this." Mello looked up at Matt and smirked. " He worked as an Elvis impersonator! Beat that!" Matt eyed him as he considered the challenge, he lit a cigarette.

"Alright I'll raise you one octogenarian!" Mello made a face of disgust, his show of defeat. "Doug Prior from Bakersfield, California. Age 89, he retired fifty years ago from the U.S air force. He was a WWII veteran." Mello deadpanned at Matt. The red head crossed his arms triumphantly then smacked them back down to catch the paper with too much forced. "Ow, I hit my elbow." Matt winced. Mello laughed bitterly at him.

"While I admit I can't top 89 year old WWII vet, I do have a college athlete." Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Boring!"

"SHUT UP! NOT EVERYBODY GETS OLD NAZI FIGHTING ARMY DUDES!" Mello shrieked. Two small children were hurriedly herded into the family minivan. Their mother gave Matt and Mello a look that read, 'you two must be sexual predators, please don't rape my children!'. Mello scowled back at her, he kept eye contact even as she peeled out of the parking lot. Matt grunted.

"Nice, now you've frightened the locals. Who's the collage athlete?" Mello cleared his throat and straitened out his leather vest. He sniffed indignantly and crossed one leg as he pretended to professionally reference the file.

"Her name was Michelle Windsor, age twenty. She played soccer at USC up until fourteen months ago when she went missing."

"My other person's boring. He ran his own laundry mat service. But he was named Montressor Hannigan, that's a pretty interesting name right?" Mello shrugged.

"Eh, I guess. So other than these guys we've got another girl and a man. Both of the females were in there late teens- early twenties. The men's ages ranged from approximately thirty to 89 years old. What kind of a sexual sadist takes that wide a victim type?"

"Maybe it's not the who it's the what. Maybe the type doesn't matter, maybe these people were easy to get to because of circumstances. The killer could be physically weak and therefore unable to take a preferential victim type." Mello frowned.

"Or we could be missing key elements of the victim's lives that identify what these people had in common. Maybe there is a type here we just haven't seen it yet."

"That's not impossible but not very probable either. I doubt that a single person could know six different victims from that wide an area intimately enough to kill based on emotional significance."

"I don't agree, what if he knew the victims in earlier life and found them again later to kill them. Like members of a neighborhood."

"There's an easy way of finding out will just find out if they have ever lived in the same community together."

"But even then you don't rule out the possibility that the killer moved around not the victims." Matt started to pick up their notes.

"We have to start somewhere!" Mello grumbled but complied by getting up and throwing trash away. A little girl pointed at Mello through the Dairy Queen window. She stuck out her tongue defiantly at him. Mello scrunched up his face. Matt glanced over and noticed this transaction. He quickly grabbed Mello's arm and dragged him away before he could enact his vengeance.


	4. Crime Scene

Authors Note: I'm glad you find this funny now… but grr I swear it shall be gruesome later! I swear it!

The sheriff, Garfield Hunt, had been making these phone calls for more than fifteen years. Never in all that time had he needed to make six on the same day. One of his deputies came into his office as he stared sadly at the phone.

"Sheriff those two boys are back again. They want to get more information about the victims. I guess they wanna try and narrow down a geographic area." The sheriff lethargically shifted his gaze to the twenty something police officer.

"Okay send them back here I want a word with them first." He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands neatly on his chest. Mello, as usual, walked into the room first in a flurry of movement. "Why do you always act like the worlds on fire? If you took it a little slower the world might seem a little less fast?" Mello scoffed at his metaphorical thinking.

"No actually the world would continue at exactly the same pace no matter what pace I should choose. I want information about the lives of the victims. If it's possible I'd like to speak to the families." The sheriff did not look enthusiastic about introducing Mello to grieving family members. Matt took a step further into the room.

"Despite how he might come off he's actually alright with people if he needs to manipulate them." Mello snapped a glare a Matt. The sheriff chuckled for a variety of reasons.

"Ah I see, so he does have the capacity to be human. Interesting." Mello clenched his fists at his sides and pursed his lips. He shook slightly from the effort it took to restrain the string of unpleasant phrases he wished to fling at the sheriff. The sheriff paid him no mind. Instead he turned in his swivel chair and began poking an Ichiro bobble-head that he kept on his desk. Mello inhaled deeply.

"Listen I didn't come here to be insulted or toyed with! Do you have information for me or not!" The sheriff refused to respond for an uncomfortably long moment. Matt sensed that the sheriff had been formulating what he was about to say for some time. Matt adjusted his goggles and looked away. It wasn't in Matt's nature to be so insubordinate all the time, at least not directly. Mello waited on the edge of his last nerve. Finally the sheriff spoke.

" You boys don't stay on cases for very long do you- don't answer that I know the answer. I don't have to be some kind of genius detective to know you two are not 'people-people'. That's alright you can do as you like. I don't ask respect from anybody, certainly not from those who are completely unwilling to give it. But respect is something I've come to enjoy after working on the force for 23 years. I suppose I've grown gluttonous in the abundance I receive from my co-workers here at the station. So when you outsiders show up and treat me like shit on your shoe, I guess it's made me a bit incensed. Shoot, respect is so far out of the question for you two, I'd settle for civil cooperation. The point I'm trying to convey-poorly, is that I'd like your cooperation." He looked up to meet Mello's intense stare. "But I'm not the one that needs YOU, to get this case underway." He reclined comfortably in his chair. The dam that held back Mello's aggression burst.

"Are you threatening me you old bastard? I don't care if you are ancient, I judge men by their worth to a case not the rings under their bark! Fuck you and your respect! I don't care if you won't give me permission! I don't need it! There are fifty different ways I could get the same information you have or better! The only reason I'm even talking to you is because they can't run my name in the news papers when all this hits the press! You're a useless incompetent old man! Why should _I_ of all people, respect _you_!" Mello practically spat on him. "FUCK you!"

He walked proudly out of the office. His swagger was now augmented by an obnoxious sense of self importance. He glanced around the office meeting every one of the horrified stares on the deputy's faces. Matt tried to put a hand on his shoulder. Mello flinched him off with disgust before he glared back at the police men with his signature scrunched snarl. "And what the fuck exactly are you starring at?!" He bellowed at them as he paraded out of the office. Matt grimaced as he attempted to silently apologize for the raging diva. "MATT!" Mello screamed at him from the front door. Matt abruptly halted all attempts to fix the damage and bolted toward the Mustang. Mello had already revved the engine. The blonde sat impatiently as Matt slid a crossed the hood and scrabbled into the car before Mello applied a heavy foot to the gas and took his foot off the clutch. The car squealed as it swung out of the parking lot. The young deputy stuck his head into the sheriff's office.

"Are you alright Garfield?" The sheriff waved him of carelessly.

"Please, that boy's got nothing on my last ex-wife. Now that little bitch was terrifying!" The police office broke into laughter instantly as they all went back to sorting through case materials.

Mello drove out of the city into the agricultural area surrounding Salem. Maybe he's looking for the crime scene, Matt thought. But at this point he knew asking would make things worse than they already were. Mello seethed behind the wheel. Every turn felt like he was tempting inertia to flip the car as they careened onto empty roads. Matt drove like this sometimes… very infrequently, usually when he was being chased or something. Maybe something is chasing Mello he thought. Mello glanced over at him. Matt looked at him with one of his pathetic worried puppy dog looks. Mello scoffed quietly and pushed some hair out of his face.

"Don't look at me like that he taunted me!" Matt raised an eyebrow critically.

"Actually I think he asked you to be nice." Matt said flatly. Mello scoffed again even more indignantly.

"Yeah but he also threatened not to give us access to the case materials-"

"Which you told him we didn't need." Matt interjected. Mello stopped abruptly next to a field. He parked the mustang on a dirt side road and got out.

"That's fine, screw him we don't need him. From now on we do this our way!" Matt groaned. That's all he needed more Mello chaos. It took them ten minutes of walking before they could see the crime scene.

Mello crossed the yellow crime scene tape elegantly. The blond carefully looked over the scene while he waited for Matt to catch up. Matt sauntered up behind Mello mentally memorizing the position of brush and dirt inside the taped off area.

" It looks awfully clean. No debris or marker of any kind. It's not even near any landmarks." Matt said, thinking aloud. Mello paced around the inside of the tape taking in the marks made by the shovels the police had used to exhume the bodies.

"How do you think he found this spot each time? Found it, then carried a body all the way out here without notice." Matt listened then turned around to look back at the road.

"We went downhill gradually. The gradient is enough that you can't see this spot from the road. No one is going to drive by and see him digging." Mello squatted down looking at the chalky consistency of the dirt.

" He had to have either carried the bodies, which would require an impressive amount of strength, or he must have had a means to move them…" Mello looked up at Matt then looked around for what he was looking for.

"Is there any irrigation in this field?" Matt turned around looking for what Mello was talking about.

"There might have been at one time-"

"But it would have been removed when the farmer foreclosed. There must have been irrigation the dirt is dry and hell! If there was canals or a rolling mechanical system there has to be an access road to get to it." Mello interjected, as Mello spoke Matt began walking toward the center of the field. He didn't have to go far before he discovered a concrete canal with a few abandoned curved tubes that once drained the water. He kicked it with his boot thoughtfully. Matt surveyed the ground to either side of the canal. On one side the ridges left over from where the ground had once been tilled were absent. Matt bent down and poked through the dirt for a few moment before he found fragments of gravel sparsely mingled amongst the dust. He stood up finding the evidence conclusive.

"I found the road." He yelled. Mello stood up and estimated that he stood no more than a hundred yards from Matt. " It's allot closer than the road we came from and it's private. It's wouldn't be on any map. He's got to at least be familiar enough with the area to know this dirt road leads here." Mello waited for Matt to come back before moving to examine the grave.

"The farmer doesn't live on the property so it's conceivable that he could come and go without anyone knowing. All he'd had to do was drive around and look for a farm house to know that no one would disturb him." Matt ducked under the tape and walked toward the hole in the ground. Mello followed.

The eerie sense that surrounds places where there has been violent loss of life is as oppressive as it is humbling. Even Mello can feel his own mortality as he looks into the grave that once contained the remains of six bodies. Mello suddenly becomes silent and slow. Matt watches him as the blond sucks in the essence of the place. After a few minutes of circling and staring Mello finally finds his voice.

"We need to look at the remains." Matt looks up at him like he's suddenly mad.

"What could that possibly do for us?" Mello turned and began walking back to the car.

" Because I need to care."


	5. Polk County Morgue

The coroner's office would have been easy to break into but it wasn't necessary. The man at the security gate seemed to be a permanent resident in the building. Sheriff Garfield Hunt sat with his hands folded looking over the coffee stained case files. To Matt's surprise Mello didn't hesitate to strut right up to the desk.

"I'm here to see the victims." The sheriff looked up from his reading and pocketed his glasses. He inhaled slowly.

"Why?" He asked in an utterly run down voice. Mello scoffed in defiance.

"Because he wants me to see them." Matt glanced at his partner with surprise. Garfield finds that notion just as shocking as Matt does.

"Okay." The sheriff responds. He gets up lethargically. His arthritic bones creak as he walks to the door and pulls out the key. Matt can't help but think of what a cliché the man is. Mello's mind is somewhere else entirely. The three of them walk into the morgue solemnly. Without hesitation the sheriff jerks open the metal drawer that hold the first body; like ripping off a Band-Aid. Matt feels the bile rise in his throat. Movie gore doesn't compare to the sight in front of him. The hair on Mello's neck and arms stands alert with an emotion that not even he can classify. His eyes are wide and devoid of regular human expression, he's very much a doll frozen in an eerie stare. The sheriff doesn't look at the corps in the locker. Instead he counts floor tiles as he waits for the boys to finish gawking. Matt has already turned around unable to look at the physical evidence of the agony the man must have suffered in his last moments of life. The image is now forever burned into his photographic memory. Mello slowly regains his objectivity and begins to look past the sight that disturbs him.

" It's not just sexual sadism. It's can't be." Mello looks at the forlorn sheriff. "Open the others I want to see all of them." The sheriff meets Mello's eyes, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are fogged over with sadness. He feels nothing but contempt for Mello.

"God forgive the man that_ wants _to see these things." He says as he tenderly opens the other lockers each one with more and more remorse, like he's intruding upon their fragile peace. This time Matt does retch up clear fluid into one of the industrial metal sinks. Mello ignores him as he takes in the details.

"The mutilation on the males is uniform. So is that of the females. But the genders differ in the pattern of mutilation based on the anatomy of their primary and secondary sex organs." He says with long pauses in between his statements. Matt spits up and turns on the water. Mello doesn't even glance he is so taken in by what he's currently analyzing down to the core. After memorizing the details of each of the bodies he finally comes out of his trance. "You can close them up now. I don't need them anymore." Garfield finally loses his last ounce of patients. The sheriff yells,

"You don't get to act like they're disposable tools! _Need_ doesn't exist for you! They NEED you, you sadistic son of a bitch! They need you! And they deserve better than you for their suffering. If I had any better to give them I would! But all I've got is you, you little shit! So at least attempt to be human enough to give them some respect!" Mello pauses briefly before deciding to act on instinct. He nods and leaves. Matt, shocked, watches him go.

On the car ride back to their hotel Mello pulls up his laptop and conferences with L.

Mello: He's done this before. Many times. I looked at the bodies today. He doesn't know anything about surgery or physiology but he's so practiced at killing he makes it seem so efficient. The wounds were decisive, every single cut had a purpose. It was described as sloppy because of decomposition and a lack of pattern recognition, but it isn't. He's decided his signature, he doesn't waver, there is no sign of experimentation or escalation between kills. He's a fully developed serial killer with possibly dozens of victims. We've only just discovered the tip of the iceberg, L. Matt's pretty shaken up.

Mello waits for L's response. He listens to the wind whistling through a crack in one of the windows. The radio is turned off. The silence is appropriate. The new message noise dings through the speakers of the laptop. It is an obnoxious sound.

L: I know. I advise caution and secrecy as always. Given the amount of information we have it's impossible to form any theories with over a twenty percent chance of accuracy, though one does come to mind.

Mello waits while L no doubt consults Light about his idea. Mello can't argue with consulting one serial killer about another.

L: I don't think he's a sexual sadist.

Mello gawks in utter disbelief.

Mello: Why?

He mashes out. Matt is too distracted by the images in his head to notice that Mello is exhibiting a high state of emotion.

L: Because, 1. The mutilation does not progress over several years of time, a sexual sadist would escalate the level of torture in order to continue to feel gratification. 2. The mutilation is consistent and I suspect, more important than the death of the victim. 3. Light points out that it's unlikely that a sexual sadist would inflict no other injuries except those that are necessary to his signature.

Mello rolls his eyes conceding that Mommy and Daddy have a point.

Mello: What does the signature mean then?

L: At this time, I'm not more than ten percent sure on any ideas. Let me know if you discover more about the killer.

L logs off.

Mello shuts the laptop and drops it on the back seat. Mello breathes deeply trying to remember how basic human interaction work. He reaches out and puts a hand on Matt's shoulder.

"You're not smoking." The blond states. Matt doesn't respond. Mello flicks the dial on the radio on, and then cranks the volume up as high as it will go. Matt flinches then smacks the radio and turns the thing off.

"Damn it Mello, what?!" He yells. Mello leans over and kisses Matt's neck. Matt instinctively leans toward Mello. The two of them don't say anything for the rest of the night.

…

"It's not a sexual sadist." Mello says as he sorts through the new files sheriff Hunt gave him.

" Really?" Hunt says. He doesn't seem to question the validity of his statement like he had when Mello told him the bodies were dumped over several years, now he is only shocked to hear the information. "But it's still defiantly got something to do with that kind of stuff. Why else do you rip up a person in that way?" Mello and Matt looked up at him at almost the exact same time. Both of their eyes go wide as it dawns on them. Mello sets down his files. The sheriff gestures for them to elaborate.

"Sex changes. You would…" He picks up his laptop and quickly goes to Google. The image search instantly reveals what they already expected. Matt stares, mentally checking for similarities.

"It looks similar but the victims were cut in more places. If you fit all the incisions together and morph them to look like… holy shit it's a Jack the Ripper sex change!" Matt exclaims. The sheriff gapes at the images on the screen and then up at the two boys.

"Well I'll be damned, you two are good for something."


	6. Victim's House

Plastic Surgeon Doctor Jeremy Nasr looked at the crime scene photos with an odd sense of calm that so far no one had exhibited after viewing the images. He then passed the stack of photo's back and folded his hands together neatly. The 45 year old surgeon opened his office in Portland Oregon eight years ago with four fellow more experienced surgeons. With a bit of digging, Matt and Mello confirmed that Nasr was arguably the best authority on sex change operations in the area.

"Well the incisions aren't surgically precise-" The doctor said before Mello huffs.

"We know, he's not a doctor or anyone in a related profession. Tell us something we don't already have so we can get on with this." Mello snapped at him. The thin blond doctor glares but doesn't rebuff his rudeness.

"No surgeon would ever cut like this it would risk cutting the femoral artery. In fact that may have been how these men and women died."

"Does anything other than the inaccuracy strike you as odd?" Matt asks over Mello's shoulder.

"Only that, while the incisions are a gross mockery of a sex change surgery, the purpose of these wounds seems to have been to remove gender identity all together. In the females there is no reconstructed phallus and in the males there is only minor indication that he tried to create a vaginal opening." Matt and Mello both stood up.

"Thanks, we'll let you know if we need to know something else." Matt said as he and Mello exit the room. Mello and Matt walk down two flights of stairs before Mello's disposable cell phone rings. The blonde picks it up and pops a bar of chocolate in his mouth.

"Ello?" He says with chocolate between his teeth.

"Mello, you and Matt are to drive to the Portland Airport right away. You have a flight that will take you to the location of the first of the victim's home. I am also sending you an extra set of eyes. He will meet you there. Your tickets are under the names Calvin Morton and Jacob Nash, you will be able to pick them up at the Delta Airlines kiosk. Good luck." The garbled voice could have been either L or Watari, Matt and Mello would listen to either of them so it didn't matter. They headed out to the airport at once.

"Who do you think he's sending?" Matt asked as they walked down the stairs. Mello shrugs.

"I don't know I just hope it's not Near!"

…

Near would have been a happy alternative to the man that met them in Phoenix, Arizona. Mello thought there was no way in hell Daddy would give up Mommy for any span of time Light hadn't been outside the building or general area L was in since he was cleared of the charges against him a year ago. Yet here he was a year after then end of the Kira case, standing in the United States of America with a suitcase and no visible sign of supervision what so ever. Matt and Mello almost forget to step off of the escalator they were so stunned by the well-dressed serial killer. Matt bumped into Mello and the two of them staggered off the moving stairs without breaking eye contact with Yagami.

"Boys." Light said as he adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag. Mello and Matt both mouth something but the words just don't form. Light turned and began walking regally toward where their town car was waiting for them.

Since his capture Light Yagami has been far happier than he's ever been in his life. For one thing he has a remarkably stable romantic relationship with his intellectual equal. He doesn't have to hide or plan ahead to avoid capture but he still gets the thrill of helping L dish out justice. In fact his work load is higher than it's ever been and he's never had more fun thinking five steps ahead of things. The other reason Light is happy is simply because he doesn't have to pretend to be nice all of the time. Sometimes he does just for manipulation, but when he's around L and the heirs he can be the selfish, superior, egotistic sociopath he really is. And the rest of them are far too strange in their own right to care.

But even if he can be himself around dingus and wingus that doesn't mean he likes their company for shit. The three of them sat down in the town car awkwardly. L had never let the three of them be in a room alone before. Probably because one of Mello's great pleasures in life is driving a wedge in Light's relationship with L. So Mello's fear of being strangled by Kira is not unfounded.

"So…" Matt began trying to start the conversation. Light would have none of it. With a flip of his hair he pulled out his laptop and brought up the case materials.

"We're going to interview the family of the victim we know the least about. Montressor Hannigan. Dry cleaner by trade, we don't have anything more than just basic physical information. L and I picked him to start with because he seems to be the most mundane of all the victims."

"You think there will be more to him." Mello says in what sounds to Matt like agreement.

"Yes. While we do this L and Watari are going to find out the identities of the two unknown victims." Light fishes out his coffee thermos from the pouch in his bag. He takes a sip of it and winces. "Why must L bombard me with sugar even from thousands of miles away?!" Light growls to himself. Mello casually looks out the window and raises an eyebrow.

"It's his way of saying he misses you." Mello adds. Mello internally curses himself for saying something supportive of their relationship. Light does not miss a beat.

"Really? How interesting it's like he cares for me of his own volition or something! And here I thought I had to use Kira Psychic Mind Games to make him love me." Light rolls his eyes and fights a smile.

"I'm still not convinced." Mello hisses. Matt exercises restraint and instead plays his videogame.

"Oh and by the way." Light bites his lip to control himself. "You're half wrong about when we have sex." Mello's face scrunches together as he tries to decipher the meaning of that. The posh young murderer crosses his legs and goes back to reading up on world news.

It takes them an hour and a half in traffic to get to the home of Montessor Hannigan. The day is hot, outside the sundried house stands a man who they assume must be the brother that has come to meet them. Matt and Mello hop out of the car and go straight to bombard the man with questions. Light sticks his head out the door and shouts. For some reason (probably the murderous tone in his voice) the duo listens to him. Light calmly exits the car and approaches the man with his hand outstretched. Matt and Mello suddenly remember that they haven't ever heard Light speak English. This should be a treat, Mello thinks as he looks forward to a hopefully atrocious accent.

"Hello Mr. Hannigan. My name is Light Yagami and these are my two associates. It's very kind of you to come out to meet us today." He says in his best funeral home worker voice. The man could be talking about brutalizing infants in that voice and you would even notice it was so well oiled; and to Mello's great disappointment, not corny at all. Clearly L had helped him, that or the man might actually just be good at everything Mello scoffed at the offensively polite serial killer following a murder victim's brother into the murder victim's house. Matt was on the same page as Mello.

"Is this some kind of sin against justice?" Matt asked quietly as they entered the doorway of the house. Mello grumbled back,

"Probably, but it's not our sin so let's just not inspect it." Light cast a lightning fast death glare at the two dawdling heirs. They both decided at that time to cut holes in all of his clothes later.

The serial killer looked over the room as the victim's brother elaborated on Montressor's childhood which as it turns out was extremely normal. He fought with his mother, children picked on him, he loved his dog named Peppy, he broke his arm once. The metal pins had a registration number on them. That was how they identified the body.

"Did you talk to your brother much before he disappeared?" Light asked as he made a V line for the bedroom, but at a pace that wasn't too fast to be conspicuous. The brother didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes we talked at least once a week he liked to talk about all the crazy stuff that happened down at the dry cleaners." Light nodded as he scanned over pictures. The victim was unmarried but apparently had many friends. Mello stopped in front of one picture in particular. In it the victim sat next to another man about the same age as him with his arm around the other man's waist. Mello's brain to mouth barrier was unfortunately not on that day.

"Was Monty gay?" The victim's brother looked absolutely appalled. Light gripped the door handle to the bedroom and silently screamed at Mello from down the hall. Light had figured out the man's sexuality based on his childhood description, the way the brother talked about the friends, and the state the house was in. To top it off a male close friend had filed the missing persons report. Which translate loosely to GAY in Arizona. The brother blabbered at Mello and Matt about how no brother of his was gay and everything else you would expect a homophobic man to say in the wake of his gay brother's death. Light took this opportunity to let them clean up their own shit. Calmly he entered the bedroom.

The room was clean, a pair of respectable work clothes were set aside for the next day with a pair of modest pajamas next to them. The bed was loosely put together on both sides. A quick inspection of the pillows confirmed what he already knew. They were both top quality but one was very firm and the other one was just barely a clump of cushy feathers. Two people sleep in this bed regularly enough that they have their own pillows, Light thought. His personal things didn't need to be gone through but he couldn't skip the closet. The moment he opened the door he knew he'd found what made Montressor Hannigan special. Inside the closet beautiful gowns and sequined dresses were arranged with boxes of accessories. For the sake of being thorough he checked the dress sizes but he already knew that they would be sized to fit the victim. He pulled a camera out of his pocket and took a few pictures.

Light passed Mello and Matt with a cheery smile on his face. They watched him go in confusion. Mello took the hint and followed. The brother kept asking questions as he followed them but none of the three answered. Finally as Light went to sit in the car he paused to answer the frantic man.

"You loved your brother, mourn him and ignore the things we've uncovered. That's the only way you're ever going to get your peace."

…

Inside the car Matt and Mello looked over the pictures.

"So he's a drag Queen how does that help us?" Mello says as he chomps on some chocolate. Light shrugs.

"I'm not sure. So far the victims have nothing to do with one another. L and Watari have yet to find any geographical similarities. None of them worked in the same industry and with the addition of the Drag Queen factor we are no closer to understanding this puzzle." Matt leans back in his seat and turns on his DS.

"What I don't understand is how all these dissimilar people are supposed to fit together as a set. He must have dumped them all together because they are supposed to go with each other but none of them are remotely similar aside from the same ripper sex change."

"Normally I would say that means they weren't supposed to go together but in this instance I don't think so." Light says as he examines his nails.

"Right, it's TOO random." Mello says.

"He built a set of something we just don't know what yet…" Light trails off. Mello rummages through his backpack until he finds his ringing cellphone. He picks it up, holding it between his ear and shoulder.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end is sheriff Hunt.

"Yeah, what's the news?" Mello asks. Hunts clears his throat and takes a deep breathe.

"They found another set of bodies." He says in his tired gravelly voice. The corner of Mello's mouth curves slightly around the chocolate bar between his teeth.

"Okay, where are they?" Mello responds, trying to sound appropriately sedate.

"Caldwell, Idaho. The local police unearthed a body last year that fits our mutilation profile exactly. They got a look at our case two days ago. Yesterday they went out to the sight and unearthed seven more bodies underneath where the first one hand been."

"Seven?!" Mello's eyes went wide. Light and Matt had caught onto the conversation easily. They too looked astounded; Light probably for different reasons than Matt and Mello. "I understand" Mello responded before ending the call. He looked at his two fellow detectives with an odd sense of triumph. " I told you there would be more victims!"

…

His house is a garbage bag that hasn't been changed in two weeks. The fridge is full of food that has spoiled. He doesn't open the door because it smells too badly. He pays his bills on time and no one ever comes over so there is no reason to intrude. His home is large and mostly empty aside from trash and books. He has not television and he has never invested in any more modern technology. His lone companion is a stereo that only plays tapes. He only owns one tape. It plays continuously in the house even if no one is home. He has owned a hundred and thirty seven copies of the same tape. He wears them out after a few years. She stands in front of the sink washing dishes with dirty water. Her hands are wrinkled from the water and worn from the sponge. The music plays a raspy version of the song it once played. It is a child's song.


	7. Second Site

AN:

Alright new rules: Since I'm busting my but writing this in the little spare time I have, I would greatly appreciate reviews. I've kind of been posting a new chapter once I get a review of the old. I'm also going to be more tempted to write more revealing chapters if the reviews are in depth.

We have a cover! I drew this last weekend. For a better image go-

gallery/#/d5mz5zg

And yes last chapter we did get our first brief glimpse at the killer!

…

The paper calls it a "GRIZZLY, MULTIPLE HOMICIDE". What could be more obvious Mello thinks as he reads the headline. This is the first print on the murders and so far no major details have been given aside from the horrifying few that are so obvious there was no hiding them. The mutilated genitals are the first thing that gets latched onto, a crude diagram of the damage is shown below the headline in the absence of an actual photo. The diagram is sensational enough on it's own. The article might as well have been written by a Hollywood Screenwriter for all the flair it added. Sheriff Hunt is quoted, "It is a tragedy that in our world things like things still happen. My associates and I are working to our fullest capacities to identify whoever is responsible for this and bring them to justice." Mello ponders if that is true or not as he and Matt speed down the highway from Boise to Caldwell.

Matt procured a car for them on craigslist and had the man that sold it to them drop it off at the airport. They'd done this before a few times. It wasn't a perfect system but so far they didn't have to deal with any annoying cab drivers or police escorts. Mello sits with his seat pulled back as far as it will go with the seat at it's greatest incline. He's practically sprawled out with the newspaper over his face.

"Anything interesting or incredibly inaccurate?" Matt asks as he tries to find a radio station worth listening to. Mello finishes reading the article and folds up the paper.

"No nothing too crazy, they didn't let it sound boring though. There were lots of adjectives and adverbs.' Garfield waddled a crossed his dirty office toward the naughty female deputy, spanked her pink with a flat paddle and said I hate Mondays!'. That kind of junk." Mello rattled off without interest. Matt laughed lightly.

"Please tell me you're talking about the fat orange tabby and not mocking the nice sheriff that's been very helpful thus far?" Light scolded as he leaned up between them from the back seat. Matt considers slamming on the breaks and doing the world a favor but unfortunately Mello doesn't have his seatbelt on either. Damn he thinks. Mello just flips Light off in response and takes a swig of his Arizona Kiwi Strawberry tea. Light ignores him and goes back to typing on his laptop. Matt and Mello check out his face in the rearview mirror. As they suspected Light has that smile that goes to his eyes while not being creepy. He's talking to L, they both conclude. Mello makes a retching noise while Matt sticks two fingers down his throat. "Stop." Light says without interrupting his typing.

"Hey if you wanted us to stop you could have gone back to wherever L is holed up at the moment. Or jumped off a cliff, the latter would be preferable." Mello sassed.

"And if I wanted to be unproductive and let the killer live free longer, I would have." Light retorted without pause. Mello turned around and glared.

"What like we aren't capable of handling this case on our own?" Light finally looked up at Mello.

"Yes." The two of them share a long moment of knowing looks. Matt stays very quiet. Mello straights up and turns around. He stares blankly ahead for the moment.

"Matt?" Matt makes a noise of acknowledgment. "What's the worst he could do to us?" Matt thinks about the question for a moment before smiling. Light slowly closes his laptop not liking the sound of that. He looks between them curiously but not yet in a panic.

"Without our real names and without L's consent? Not much."

…

Mello and Matt howl with laughter as they drive away from the rock quarry/shooting range where they just left Light without his laptop, watch, cellphone, wallet, and shoes. In fact all he had was most of his clothes and a large water bottle.

Light takes a few deep breaths. After about twelve seconds of trying to be calm,

"Oh fuck it why do I bother!" He then proceeds to scream to his heart's content.

…

"Are you sure we're not going to get killed for that?" Matt asks as he and Mello walk up to the crime scene. Mello shrugs and gestures toward the yellow tape and cops swarming around the area.

"Who knows? Let's go introduce ourselves before the heart attacks start, okay?" Mello says casually. Mello strides over to the man directing the team that's currently unearthing the bodies. Men in hazard suits with shovels struggle with the ground inside decrepit foundations. Mello takes stock of them for a moment. The house was built sometime between 1920-1930 and had burned down some years ago. Animals and plants have long since taken over around the bare foundation. The dusty dirt is solid like drywall. The men digging scrape away at the ground stripping away layers inch by inch. Matt is occupied looking over the technology, the bodies are visible on a screen attached to a machine that can scan the ground and see what kind of material is in it. The corpses are obvious inside the ground. Matt takes note that this machine is probably the most expensive thing he's seen so far in this town. They must have had to make special calls to get ahold of it. He glances around and spots a couple of FBI men that may have been the ones supplying the expensive equipment.

Mello leans on the table the Special agent from the FBI sits in front of. The blonde studies the material on the table and quickly decides none of it is actually important, just a lot of bureaucratic American bullshit about jurisdictions and court orders. The FBI agent looks up and promptly takes off his sun glasses and extends his hand.

"They told me you'd be dressed oddly. You must be Mello and the red head eying Agent Kent's Ground Penetrating Radar must be Matt." Mello shakes the man's hand. He's happy to see someone who can think for themselves.

"I really hope that's not a euphemism or somebodies getting their ass kicked. Nice you meet you too, agent Robert Neuman." Agent Neuman smiles.

"And I'm not even wearing a name tag. Call me Neuman, my own wife doesn't even call me Robert. Or agent for that matter." He gestures for Mello to walk over to the hole in the ground. Mello is displeased to note that they haven't made progress.

"How long have you been trying to dig them up?" Neuman looks at his watch.

"About three hours since we got the order to go ahead. So far we've uncovered two feet of ground that had already been disturbed when we found the first girl." Mello nodded.

"I can tell why you didn't look deeper for others." Mello adds.

"There hasn't been a non-gang related multiple homicide around here in quite some time. Especially one involving a serial killer. We had no reason to think there'd be anything else down there." Matt strolls up next to Mello he caught the conversation so far while he was looking over the tech.

"You say _we_ were you involved when the first victim was discovered?" Neuman nods and adjusts his FBI baseball cap.

"Yes, the nature of the mutilation threw up some red flags. The local office sent a request that I come out here and consult since the local folks didn't know what to make of it. We concluded it was sexual sadism and put a watch out for more like this. That's how our office and the folks over in Salem got in touch. We heard there were multiple bodies in the same place so we brought the GPR out to take a look. Sure enough, you know the rest. Don't worry about the slow work, we've got some better equipment coming from Boise, it's just taking a few minutes to be loaded and get sent out here." Mello and Matt look at each other and decide that the FBI agent is proficient enough for his role.

"Where is the eighth body now?" Mello asks. Neuman checks his cellphone.

"Right now it's waiting to be exhumed. The judge signed the order an hour ago and the family has been notified. The body will be back at the coroner's office tonight for you two to take a look at." He says. Matt grumbles and looks at Mello.

"That's alright, we'll check in once the other bodies are with it. But call us when you get done digging I want to see them as they come out of the ground." Mello says. He doesn't want to subject Matt to another bout of bodies without good reason. They walk off and Neuman waves them off without a goodbye. One of the local policemen walks up to Neuman.

"How'd you know who those boys was?" He asks. Neuman smiles and pats the man on the shoulder.

"They were described to me as too gay to be local."


End file.
